


Bad at Ethics

by LenaStrike



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, F/M, One Shot, Professor Tom, maybe a little dom! tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaStrike/pseuds/LenaStrike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor AU where Tom is an Ethics professor that crosses the line and makes the reader very happy. One-shot to get this out of my head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad at Ethics

**Author's Note:**

> Really needed to get this out of my head! Not perfect, just quick smut.

You sat at your desk in the back row, not even trying to be conspicuous as you texted your girlfriends with plans for the night. It was your last class of the day, and you were eager to leave, willing time to hurry up so you could meet with them. You silently cursed yourself for taking a class on Friday evenings, but this was one of those classes you needed to meet requirements and as it occupied the latest time block, it was the only time it fit into your schedule. Your notebook and pen sat idle and forgotten in front of you, and you were no longer paying attention to your ethics professor who was busily scrambling back and forth, underlining bullet points on the chalkboard as he explained and reviewed for the upcoming midterm.

_My ethics professor is seriously, crazy attractive. I don’t know how I’m going to pass this midterm when all I do is stare at his crotch._

_Is it a good crotch?_

_Yes A+ definitely. Except he changed his hair! He dyed it ginger and trimmed it short. I miss the blond curls already._

_You’d still fuck him, don’t lie._

_Without question,_ you typed.

You sent it off with a small smile.

Suddenly you looked up, wondering at the sudden silence in the room. You turned in your chair to see Professor Hiddleston was standing behind you, reading the text on your phone. You watched his face as he scanned the screen. You tried to contain your horror. His clear blue eyes met yours; they were fiery, blazing, but the rest of his face was calm.

“See me after class, dear,” he said quietly.

You could only nod, your mortification stunning you into silence. You glanced back at your phone; your typed words were stark on the screen, plain as day, black and white. There was no way in hell he didn't see what you had said… about him.

You looked around the room, but no one was looking at you. They were all busily scribbling down the notes on the board. The whole encounter went unnoticed. _Oh god_ , you were going to get reamed after class. He hadn't gotten pissed at you for fiddling around during class before, but that’s because you've always doodled or read your other textbooks. You've never blatantly ignored him and played on your phone. _Oh god._

He walked back up to the front of the class, “Did everyone get everything down?” He never looked in your direction.

There was a general, “yes,” hummed from the class.

“Alright, well, very good, then. I’m going to let you all out early! We’ll gather next week! Have a nice weekend, and don’t forget to study!” he smiled widely and warmly to students as they made their exit. Everyone packed up and headed out into the darkness in record time, eager to start their weekends.

You stood by your desk and watched as Professor Hiddleston shut the door behind the last student, locked it, and then turned to look at you. The tension was palpable: you had blatantly insulted him and you tried to steel yourself for the lecture that was coming at you. You took a deep breath. You were an adult; you would apologize for being disrespectful and walk out of this classroom with some dignity.

He began to pace in front of you, his long legs carrying him back and forth quickly, “You’re a bright student, dear. You always turn in intelligent work, and I’m always surprised at how well you grasp the material,” he stopped in front you. He was so tall you had to gaze up, “especially with your indiscreet lack of note taking.”

You gulped, having no idea what to say.

“We’re halfway through the semester… I've let it slide. And then I saw you on your phone, or rather what you said about me.”

“Sir, it’s nothing personal, really. I’m so sorry—”

He held his hand up, cutting off your feeble apology. Your eyes lingered on his long fingers. He was so close you could smell his cologne. And then he stepped even closer, invading your personal space. He leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours, “Oh, I've noticed your wandering eyes…”

Your eyes fluttered closed and the anticipation was like a vice in your stomach just waiting, waiting, for the opportunity to strike…when your phone vibrated loudly in your hand.  
Your eyes flew open, but Professor Hiddleston didn't step away. Instead, he ran his large hand down your arm, slowly and lightly, and his fingers wound around your wrist. His skin was hot against your own, and he slowly slipped the phone out of your hands.

His brought it up and read the text aloud, “Put his cock in your mouth already and shut up.”

Your mouth popped open, and the blush crawled up your neck hot and shameful.

“Such vulgar friends you have.”

Your response was lost when he closed the short distance between you, his lips hot and insistent against yours. You were so alarmed that it took you a moment to respond, but when you did, he growled low in his throat. His enthusiasm was overwhelming and your head swam, making you dizzy. His hands groped greedily, and you moaned when he cupped your breast through your shirt.

“Would you like that, dear?” he asked as his hands wove into your messy curls, “My cock in your mouth,” he murmured.

“Please, sir,” you responded breathily. Who was this demanding man and what has he done with your shy, professional teacher?

His eyes flashed at your words and he smirked. He kissed you again and then finally pulled away, unzipping his gray trousers. You happily dropped to your knees and gently pulled out his cock, hot and insistent in your hands. Your observations about his large package turned out to be correct, and you felt a little smug.

You pumped him a few times and then licked your lips, wanting to be good for him, to please him. When you finally brought his cock to your lips and kissed the tip, he shuddered. “Get on with it, dear.”

You obliged, licking a wide stripe up the side of him, base to tip, and then engulfed him in your mouth. You worked hard, and had never enjoyed giving a blow job so much in your life. He tasted musky and sweet at the same time, and you took him as far as you could, and tried to swallow him.

He growled and wound his hands back into your hair, taking control, “Lord woman, how deep can you go?”

You let him control you for a few moments, until he pulled away with grunt, “Best not quite yet,” he grumbled.

You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand and looked up innocently at him, “Why not?”

He scowled at you and dropped down onto the floor in front of you, and pushed you down onto your back. He pulled his wallet out, and fished out a condom, setting it next to you.

Your eyes went fuzzy at he pushed your shirt up, uncovering your stomach and bra, pushing the cups down until your breasts were pushed up: obscene and exposed. He unbuttoned your jeans, yanking them off with your underwear and flats. _Oh god, this is really happening._ You just couldn't believe it. After half a semester of fantasizing about this, it was going to actually happen, and you felt lightheaded. You were up in the clouds for a total of one minute until he shoved his trousers down his thighs and put on the condom. He lifted your hips up until your legs wound around him and he sunk into you like he was coming home.

Everything came into focus then, your skin was hot and you couldn't help the throaty moan that escaped you. He began pumping into you, a fast and relentless rhythm. He kissed you again, tasting himself, but the pleasure was too intense for you to really kiss him back. You clutched his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucked you into the classroom carpet.

“You’re so wet for me, aren't you darling? My cock in your mouth got you absolutely soaked.”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Louder,” he demanded, thumbing your clit.

“Yes! Oh god.”

He was relentless, not giving you any precious buildup to the edge, but shoving you off it with no grace. You came so hard, you actually heard him tell you to “breathe darling.”  
It was only a few more moments until his pace quickened and finally stuttered, stilling inside of you and coming with a low groan.

He stayed still for a moment, licking the sweat off your clavicle before he finally pulled out and took off his condom, knotting it and tossing it in the trash can. He pulled up his pants and trousers, and with a sigh, he lay down next to you.

“That was the best fuck I've ever had,” he gasped.

You hummed, still too high to come back down to reality and he chuckled at you.

He propped himself up on his elbow next to you, and kissed each of your breasts before tucking them back into your bra and pulling your shirt down. His hand traced down to your center, and he fingered you, feeling how wet you were with your own come.

“My, my, I did a number on you.”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you conscious?” he smiled. He thumbed your clit again and you squirmed, overly sensitive.

You smiled back, “Very.”

“I've caught you staring before, you know. I just never thought you would be amenable to the idea.” He retrieved his hand and licked his fingers. Your eyes went wide and you felt your chest fill with desire again.

“I was staring at your cock,” you said cynically.

He laughed and blushed, the humble professor coming back again, “Good point.” He kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back on top of you. After a moment, you pulled away, “Again?” you asked.

He scrunched his eyes closed and groaned, “Oh god, yes. We have to go to my apartment, I don’t have another condom.”

“Oh, but my friends…” you glanced at your phone, lying forgotten a few feet away.

His eyes bored into yours and he tilted your head back, exposing your neck so he could suck a mark where it met your shoulder. You moaned, rubbing yourself against his clothed cock, feeling his hardness again.

He pulled away, “That will have to do, dear.” he licked up to your ear and whispered, “but you will come to my apartment tomorrow night.”

“Alright,” you breathed, still wound up, “but you can’t leave me like this,” your hips ground against him and he grunted.

“Yes, I will. And you won’t touch yourself until you see me, understand?”

You nodded and whimpered.

He rolled away from you, took a few deep breaths, and stood up, handing you your panties and jeans. He grabbed your phone and typed on it for a moment.  
“This is my mobile number, and this is my address. Eight o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

You quickly dressed and stepped into your flats, trying to pat down your messy hair. He handed the phone to you, and smirked at your disheveled state, “You look thoroughly fucked.”

“I just was,” you grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder, and stepping towards the door.

“Oh, and darling?”

You turned and his fiery gaze captured you, “Yes?”

“Don’t text in my class again, it’s rude.”

You laughed, unlocked the door, and swept out of the room.


End file.
